The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

THE VISITORS.



IN the room where I was sleeping
     The sun came to the floor,
Whose silent thought went leaping
     To where in woods of yore
     It felt the sun before.
5

At noon the rain was slanting
     In gray lines from the west;
A hurried child all panting
     It pattered to my nest
     And smiled when sun-carest.
10

At eve the wind was flying
     Bird-like from bed to chair;
Of brown leaves sere and dying
     It brought enough to spare,
     And dropped them here and there.
15

At night-time, without warning,
     I felt almost to pain
The soul of the sun in the morning,
     The soul of the wind and the rain,
     In my sleeping-room remain. [Page 79]
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